Blue Roses
by Pleasing.the.Yaoi.Gods
Summary: Just a cute fluff in which France buys roses for Canada


Author's Note: I don't think I've ever done just random fluff, usually my stuff is humorous and romantic but I was just in the mood for cuteness so yeah, Hooray for fluff! Anywho please enjoy!

France stood in front of the counter of the florist, hand on his scruffy chin, debating. In front of him were two very lovely bouquets of roses, one blue and the other simply red. Now normally France would have taken the red bouquet and been on his merry way, but today he had paused when he saw the blue bouquet. The reason for this was because this particular bouquet was for his sweet Canada so it had to be special and perfect. Of course on one hand red roses represented love and France was the master of love, but everyone one got their beloved red roses and he himself was always sending the other nations red roses because everyone needs some French loving, but Canada was different from the others. Canada was his petit tresor and the love he felt for him went beyond playground flirting.

The more the perverted nation considered it the more appealing the purple bouquet looked. It reminded him of Canada's lovely blue eyes, but would Canada get it? France had to admit that sometimes his sweet could be a little naive and so was going for a color other than red a good move?

"Are you ready yet sir?" the florist asked the blonde man.

France raised an eyebrow at the two bouquets and then sighed, why was this so difficult, but France knew the answer. It was because Canada was so special to him that he had to obsess over which color of rose would be better to get the younger man.

"Sir?"

"J'desole monsieur," France said with a charming smile. "I am ready now."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Canada sat in his living room writing yet another letter to Cuba asking him to stop mistaking him for his brother. It made Canada so upset how everyone either forgot him or thought he was America. He was a nice guy, so how could anyone so nice be so invisible or mistaken for such a rude person? Canada sighed; it was all beyond him how.

The maple syrup lover was wiping his glasses of a smudge when his doorbell rang. He paused, finished getting rid of the smudge, and then got up to go answer his door. He hoped that it wasn't Cuba, come to hit some more, or worse his brother who would want to rant about how cool he was and then ask Canada why he wasn't doing more to be cool like him.

When Canada opened the door he got a pleasant surprise, it was neither Cuba nor America, it was France,

"Oh papa, bonjour. I wasn't expecting you today," the younger nation said with a faint blush. He always enjoyed when France came to visit him, though when he did he had to remember to lock his doors so that America couldn't come barging in and catch the two countries doing things Canada would rather America know nothing about.

"Bonjour mon petit chou," France said and waltzed into Canada's house. "Comme ca va?"

"Bien, but why are you here?" Canada asked confused.

France turned too look at Canada and placed a hand on his heart. "Are you not happy to see me then?"

"Oh no, I am very happy to see you papa," Canada said as he shut his door and locked it. "But I wasn't expecting you,"

France gave his little love a charming smile which made the bespectacled young country feel weak in the knees. "But of course you weren't. I came here on mere whim. I was taking a stroll earlier and happened to pass by the florist and just had to bring you some roses."

Canada blushed, France was so thoughtful and sweet, he wondered why the other countries seemed to be so scared and upset with the Frenchman, but then Canada recalled how France could get when faced with a new "territory" and also how flirtatious the older man was.

"You didn't have to," he said, but France waved away his words.

"But of course I did," France said and with a flourish pulled a bouquet of blue roses from behind his back, Canada hadn't even noticed that France had been hiding them back there.

"Oh."

"Do you like them?"

Canada looked at the roses and then at France. Why were they blue, he wondered? Didn't France always say that red roses were the flower of love? So why then was France presenting Canada with blue roses.

"You don't," France said, his smile faltering.

"No! I like them a lot."

"But you don't love them." There was a pause and France sighed. "The color reminds me of your lovely eyes," France said.

"Oh," Canada blushed some more. Had France actually thought about the color then rather than just picking up red roses? The idea was more endearing than red roses could have ever been. Canada smiled and took the roses and even gave France a small kiss on the cheek. "Thank you very much. I love them."

He then went and found a nice purple vase to put them in, gave them some water, and then placed them on his dining table. Canada then returned to his living room where France was.

"Thanks again France."

France grinned and placed an arm around his little lover. "Oh you're most welcome mon cher, but you know that's not the only reason that I came to see you."

"No?"

"No. I came because I missed you very much." As France said this he began to lead Canada over to the couch, which Canada willingly allowed him to do whilst blushing, he knew what was coming. "So then let us make up for our time apart, oui?"

"Oui."

A/N/: not my best fanfic, but I must say it's kinda cute. Anywho please review


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